Heir of Stardust and Secrets (Mythic Spark #1)

32. A Feast of Inclusion

Chapter 32

A Feast of Inclusion

I exited the bedchamber to find Nevander looking dapper in his finery. He took me in, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Shall we?”

I smiled up at him. “We shall.”

“Why isn’t Thaddeus escorting me?”

“The event started over an hour ago.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling embarrassed.

My expression must have given me away, as Nevander turned to me and said, “Don’t worry, it started with a mingle and drinks beforehand. You should be right on time for the dinner.”

His words put me at ease, but a fluttering sense of anxiety built as we walked toward the lion’s den.

Chatter and soft music filled the corridor. It wasn’t the loud, demanding beats of dance music or the chittering excitement of a celebration, more the demure murmurings of genuine conversation. I prayed it stayed like this and that there’d be no dancing as the night went on.

Once at the entrance, Nevander stepped aside as if it were time for him to melt into the background. Knowing I wouldn’t be afforded such a luxury, I took a deep, steadying breath and stepped into the room.

Eyes turned my way, and conversations faded. I kept my head high and my back straight as I walked farther into the room, causally scanning for Thaddeus.

A large male stepped toward me, impossible to avoid. I smiled inwardly, realizing that I had, in fact, described the high lord of the Autumn Court to a tee.

“So, this is the woman who has the courts abuzz.” His voice had a gruff timber to it, like the crunch of dried autumnal leaves underfoot.

“High Lord,” I said and curtsied, offering him a soft, feminine smile.

His brows raised, and I wondered if he’d hoped to catch me off guard—see how I’d interact with him without knowing who he was.

He recovered quickly. “Nyleeria,” he said, echoing my formal tone with a dip of his chin.

“Apologies, High Lord, but I’m at a loss for your name.”

There was a quick tug at the corner of his mouth before he said, “Well, allow me to formally introduce myself, then. I’m Lord Wymond, high lord of the Autumn Court, and commander-in-chief of the Axelian Army.”

“Axelian, as in Axel?” I asked, surprised.

“One in the same.”

“You command an army named after the ancient Father of Peace ?” Surely, I’d heard him wrong.

“You do not disappoint, Nyleeria.” He tilted his head a fraction, then leaned in so only I could hear. “What better way to have peace, than to hold power?” His words contained some sort of promise, a threat, even.

“A peace that is held is tenuous,” I whispered back, keeping his gaze. “High Lord,” I said with a tiny curtsey, then excused myself to join Thaddeus, who was standing with Caius .

I felt Wymond stare after me and resisted the urge to shudder.

“Nyleeria, it’s good to find you well,” Caius said in greeting. “I see you met Wymond.”

“I did.”

“What did you think of the high lord of the Autumn Court?”

“Don’t you mean high lord and commander-in-chief?” I jeered. Caius gave me a knowing smile. “Well, Caius, you’ll have to be on your best behavior. I’d say Lord Wymond will give you a run for your coin,” I said, fully serious.

Caius’ brows furrowed. “Oh? In what manner?”

“In who my favorite high lord is, of course.” I gave him a wink.

Thaddeus gave a wry smile, and Caius looked like he’d break into laughter but found his composure and gave me an unabashed smile instead.

“Well, whatever could I do to tip the scales in my favor?”

“ You’re the high lord, you tell me.”

“I do still owe you a proper date, one that doesn’t have us lost in time, or in peril. Would you do me the honor of joining me for lunch tomorrow?”

“Umm…” I said, holding Caius’ gaze in a teasing manner. “I’ll have to move some things around. But, I suppose, as my solstice gift to you, I could make it work.”

“Tomorrow it is, then,” Caius said, with a broad smile, and a sound chimed. “If you’ll both excuse me.” He gave Thaddeus and me a nod and made his way to what looked like a dining room.

When Caius was well out of earshot, Thaddeus leaned in close. “You’re good with Caius,” he said, pride in his voice.

“It’s easy with him, but we’ll see what tomorrow brings. Unfortunately, I learned very little about him the other day.”

“What did Wymond say to you?” Thaddeus asked, his tone serious.

“Nothing.”

“I know that smile you gave him, Nyleeria. It wasn’t nothing.”

“I think he threatened me. ”

Thaddeus gave a silent command for Tarrin and Nevander to join us.

Both men looked at us expectantly. Thaddeus nodded for me to go on, his features neutral.

“I think Wymond, the high lord of the Autumn Court, threatened me,” I repeated quietly. Their features maintained the illusion that our conversation was light. “I’ll fill you in on the details later. But if any of you can get closer to him or his courtiers, it would be good. I doubt I’ll be granted access again.”

“I was wondering who the poor bastard was,” Tarrin said. “Only you, Ny, would turn your back on a high lord before you’ve been dismissed.” He shook his head and chuckled.

I went to retort, but Nevander cut in.

“Wymond has three from his court here. Lothar and Njal, although I haven’t gotten the name of the third.”

“Endymion,” I offered, “his second-in-command. That’s who I danced with the other night in the high lord’s stead.” I smiled inwardly, recalling our conversation, our dance. I’d unnerved the male, and I could admit that a piece of me felt no small amount of smugness from it.

“Okay,” Tarrin said. “This is a good opportunity for us to meet them. It’s the only event where the entourages are part of the celebration, not just guarding shadows.” There was no judgment in his words, as if he genuinely didn’t mind being on the sidelines, observing the action instead of being part of it.

Tarrin must have read my mind, as he gave me a wry smile. “Not all of us like being the center of attention, Ny.”

I gave him a death glare. He damn well knew how much I loathed being in those situations. “And not all of us can cower in the shadows either,” I threw back at him. He covered his chest with his hand in mock pain, as if a blade had struck true.

Even Nevander smiled, but our conversation got cut short when Caius called everyone to join him.

Stepping into the dining hall, I understood why Kai had called it a feast. The spread was so vast that even the most rapacious giant would have been glutted. A large table stretched before me, laden with an opulent mixture of exotic dishes that I’d struggle to name. Interlaid in artful arrangements were blooms not of this world, as if they’d been plucked from the garden of dreams. The air was a medley of inviting, yet unfamiliar scents that weaved a tantalizing aromatic tapestry.

Awe written on my features, Caius flashed me a smile, and I mouthed beautiful to him—his grin widened with a radiant glow.

A servant escorted me to my seat, where I sat across from Thaddeus. Caius was at the head of the table to my right, while the other end remained vacant.

Fiora’s elegant presence swept in next to me, taking the empty seat between Caius and me. A surge of elation caught me off guard, and I pulled her into an embrace; she didn’t hesitate before hugging me back.

I released her, still holding her hands, and asked, “How are you?”

“I should be the one inquiring after your well-being, my dear. It has been quite a journey for you, has it not?” Her soothing voice washed over me. In a different world, we could be friends. Sadly, that wasn’t our reality. I shoved the thought down, unwilling to relinquish any sliver of comfort this place offered, no matter how ephemeral.

Smiling at her while we took out seats, I said, “It’s been eventful, to say the least.”

She squeezed my hand and leaned in closer. “It appears it was a good thing I kept that glamor on you,” she said with a knowing grin.

Color painted my cheeks at the memory of being feasted on—I bit it down after I found Thaddeus’ gaze and communicated a silent promise. His eyes smoldered in response.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” I said sweetly, reaching for a glass of water.

Her laugh lit up the room, and I couldn’t help but grin.

As Fiora got settled and shifted her attention to Caius, a gentle pull from behind tugged at my awareness. Twisting slightly, my eyes landed on Endymion as he approached. The raw magnetism of his presence was as startling as it had been during our first encounter, and for a moment, he stole my breath. I forced my attention away, focusing on the table at large, noting there were thirteen of us. Some superstitious part of me wondered if it was a bad omen.

A soft clinking came from my right, and I turned to find Caius with a raised glass, readying himself to give a toast.

The room fell silent, and he looked around the table.

“Thank you for joining in this solstice feast. It’s an honor to share the Mother’s bounty with old friends and new. May our kinship be as bountiful as this feast.”

We raised our glasses and drank.

Everyone reached for a platter, serving themselves before passing it on. Merriment and conversation ensued, and I was surprised at the informality of it all, the intimacy, but also pleased by it. Somehow, it made us one instead of many.

Before serving myself, I took inventory of who was in attendance. Caius, presiding at the head, was flanked by Fiora and Myron. Directly across from me was Thaddeus, stationed between Myron and Wymond. I flashed him a wry, better you than me grin, and a hint of amusement tugged at his lips.

Tarrin was on the other side of Wymond, and to his right sat a male I didn’t recognize. Judging from the seating layout, those of higher rank appeared to be seated across from me, and given his features, the stranger likely belonged to the Autumn Court. Knowing Endymion was Wymond’s second, it was curious that he hadn’t been seated there instead. Glancing to my left, I was startled to find Endymion seated right beside me. He must’ve settled in during Caius’ toast.

The fae kitty-corner from me was Artton, one of the males who’d valenned us to the Summer Court. His counterpart, Sidrick, sat opposite him. That just left Nevander on the other side of Endymion and another male who could have also been from the Autumn Court— meaning there were four of them from there, and I wondered why they were overrepresented in comparison.

Turning my attention to the food, I found myself at a loss, only recognizing some garnishing fruits. A knot formed in my stomach, afraid that my ignorance could give me away. If I had grown up with Thaddeus, as we claimed, would this food be familiar? My companions piled their plates with ease, unfazed by the array of dishes—either accustomed to the exotic fare or indifferent to it. Given their age, it seemed likely there was little they hadn’t experienced before.

Gods, I was so naive. How could I possibly think I belonged here? And what gave me the bravado to speak to, let alone dismiss myself from, Wymond the way I had? Tarrin was right when he’d said that only I could pull such a stunt—because only I was stupid enough to be insolent.

“Nyleeria?” a voice questioned to my left.

“Sorry?” I said, facing Endymion.

“I asked if I could offer you a dish,” he repeated.

“Oh.” I looked at the table, and overwhelm crept in.

Endymion leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “You’ve never eaten this type of food before, have you?” My expression must have conveyed the truth, as he offered me a kind smile, and said, “I remember my first time in the Summer Court. The food is vastly different from the Autumn Court. Our food is more”—he held on to the word—“simple.”

“Mine too.”

“Here, I’ll dish out small bits of my favorites for you to try.” He sounded excited, as if sharing something new was a rare occurrence. Then again, with immortality, I supposed it would be—Thaddeus had even claimed as much.

Endymion reached for a dish, and I noticed Thaddeus’ jaw tighten as he monitored Endymion’s every move.

“This one,” Endymion explained, pulling my attention back to him, “is one of my favorites. It’s called ceviche, and I swear that the gods themselves created it. ”

I warmed at the look of anticipation he gave me, wanting to know my verdict.

Taking a small spoonful, I smelled it first. It had a faint fishy scent to it, but not the pungent aroma of the trout from back home. I risked a small nibble, and the burst of citrus acidity that combined beautifully with the subtle brininess of the seafood, danced on my palate.

“How can food be this refreshing?” I asked in awe.

The side of his mouth tilted up, and amusement danced in his eyes. “I’m pretty sure they use magic,” he said, winking, then reached for another platter.

Endymion continued offering me his favorites, explaining each dish and why he loved it.

“So, Nyleeria,” a cold, familiar voice said loud enough that all murmurings halted.

I was about to take another bite of food, but set my fork down, turning my full attention to the high lord of the Autumn Court.